January 27, 2018 – On Priestly Celibacy

4th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year B

English

Something you may not yet have realized about my preaching style is that I always preach on the Scriptures, as is requested by the Church. But oftentimes I do so in obscure ways, where I do not directly quote or explain the Scriptures word-by-word, but instead talk about a theme or a topic that is deeply influenced by the Scriptures and that, if properly understood, will make the Scriptures make more sense. But to see this requires that you read the Scriptures before Mass, hear them again while at Mass, and revisit them after the Mass has concluded. If you want to start now, today’s homily is intended to help you better understand the second reading.

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One of my favorite things to do is talk to high school youth about the faith, because they are one of the few groups of people that can regularly stump me. It is good to be stumped regularly, otherwise we begin to think we know everything, and we fail to grow. Well, a few years ago I was speaking in a high school classroom on the subject of priestly celibacy, that is, the idea that priests cannot be married. Priestly celibacy, of course, is a discipline of the Church, not a dogma, meaning that, though venerable and important, it can admit of exceptions or could even theoretically be abandoned altogether. Having made this clear to these high schoolers, one of them pipes up with a question: “If they did get rid of priestly celibacy, would you get married?”

Punk kid. It was a great question, a hard question, and one that I had not thought about before. In the moment I blurted out that no, I would not, which was an answer that surprised even me. But as I reflected more and more on that question in the following months and years, I realized that my initial impulse was correct. I value my commitment to celibacy to such an extent that I would not get married, even if the Church allowed me to, because I find that celibacy is a significant impetus to holiness in my life.

Now, this would be a good time to stop and provide a caveat and a history lesson. First the caveat: our pastor is one of the very small number of married priests in this country, and I consider him to be a good and holy priest as well. Celibacy is not the only way for a priest to be holy, but it is the normal way that has developed for western clergy. So I am going to talk about the rule before I talk about the exceptions.

Second the history lesson: clerical celibacy began as clerical continence, that is, a prohibition against married clerics having relations with their wives once they had been ordained. This practice was strongly recommended as early at the fourth century, but likely existed in various ways and in various parts of the Church since the earliest generations of Christians who followed the advice of Saint Paul. From the fourth to the eleventh centuries, the push for clerical continence logically became the push for clerical celibacy (that is, prohibition of marriage altogether), and this became generally accepted church law sometime around the ninth century. However, enforcement was difficult and many clerics continued to marry despite prohibitions against doing so. Finally, by the time of the Gregorian reforms in the middle of the eleventh century, the papacy was strong enough to enforce this discipline universally in the western church, and it has been successfully enforced ever since.

So back to holiness. Celibacy, along with poverty and obedience, is one of the Evangelical Counsels. They are called the Evangelical Counsels because they are so counter-cultural that they automatically preach the Gospel. It is supremely difficult, some would even say unnatural, to give up freedom, money, and family, so when someone does so successful, it is an obvious inbreaking of grace into the world and into a human life. It is an inescapable neon sign saying that there is something greater going on here (and, pro-tip, that something is Jesus).

The Evangelical Counsels are most obviously lived by our religious orders, who cannot own personal property and whose obedience puts a lot more demands on their lives, since they often live very near their superiors. We diocesan priests have it comparatively easy, since we get to keep and manage our own income and because our obedience to the bishop and the Church, though absolute, is usually self-enforced or imposed from a distance.

That is why, when you read Church history, the diocesan clergy do not usually appear in a very flattering light. Yes, there are periods when the religious orders needed reform (just ask the Discalced Carmelites), but those were sporadic. The diocesan clergy, on the other hand, were constantly in need of reform. In my church history classes, it was almost like every fifty to one-hundred years another Pope or holy bishop was trying to increase the holiness of the Church, and he always needed to start with the diocesan clergy. We are too close to the world, too close to temptations, that it is easy for us to get lazy or sinful.

Which is exactly why I value my celibacy so much. It serves as a constant reminder that my happiness, in this life and the next, can only come from God. Of course, that is true for all of us, that only God will give us perfect and lasting happiness; but it ends up being lot more obvious for me because, while it might be tempting to seek happiness from a family instead of God, it is a whole lot less tempting to believe that an X-Box can fill those needs. Celibacy perpetually reminds me of my radical dependence on the Lord.

Two more things are worth noting. The first is that, of all the things that people end up hating about the Catholic Church, celibacy is very near the top of the list. It is radical, it is strange, it is seemingly unnatural, and it is despised. In almost every documented instance of anti-Catholic persecution, from the Reformation to the French Revolution to the Cristero Wars in Mexico, the first thing to be attacked is the monasteries, where the Evangelical Counsels are most pronounced, and the second thing is the celibacy of the diocesan clergy. Sometimes priests are forced to marry, or are continually placed with concubines, because the persecutors are so repulsed by the fact that we forego family for the sake of vocation. This persists today. Whenever you hear someone blame celibacy for the sex abuse crisis, it is not because there is any validity to that claim; it is because celibacy sets us apart from an over-sexualized western world, so celibacy will always be attacked first. If this is not a sign of the importance of celibacy to the identity and holiness of the Church, I am not sure what is.

Second, and finally, celibacy plays an important role in the holiness of the entire priesthood. Priests are entrusted with leadership in their respective communities, and we claim this leadership on theological grounds. If we are not disciples of the Lord, authentically seeking holiness, this leadership becomes a disastrous dictatorship. By forcing every priest to give up marriage, family, and freedom for the sake of the vocation, the Church ensures that these men do not use the priesthood simply as a way of worldly enrichment and stature. Celibacy, in additional to its many other benefits, ensures that we are getting ordained for the right reasons. This is also, I believe, why the Church has seen fit to make exceptions for men like our own pastor who were already pastors in other denominations before they converted to Catholicism. The cross that these men endured, of being a leader of a community who then converted away from that community, is a choice and a cross equal to celibacy in ensuring adequate discipleship and proper motives.

Ultimately, a priest is always for his people, so I pray that my celibacy is as much as gift to you as it is to me. If it does keep me holy, it keeps me holy for you. If it does keep me open and honest and available, it keeps me available to serve you. If it does keep my motives proper, that propriety is so that I never harm any of you. And if my celibacy does preach the Gospel, that Gospel is intended for you, so that you know that the grace of God is powerfully at work in our world and in your lives.

I thank God for the gift of celibacy, and I pray that he will keep me, and all priests, firm in our resolve, because you deserve holy priests, and the world yearns for a holy Church.